


Role Difference

by DagReaper (TyJaxReaper)



Series: Deanrek-Hale/Winchester [11]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Dean Gets Bitten, Dean In Paiges' place, Episode: s03e08 Visionary, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Manhandling, Minor Violence, Rough Kissing, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Touching, Young Dean, Young Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6374065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyJaxReaper/pseuds/DagReaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What’s your name?” he stopped and sensed him walk into the room, getting closer to Dean.</p><p>“Dude, tryin’ to practice. Can’t you see the guitar?” he pointed out, gesturing to it. He noticed the smirk on the other guys’ face, like he knew what he was doing to him.</p><p>“Okay,” he was still getting closer, and Dean could feel his nerves warming and spiking with mild excitement. “I’ll just, leave you alone then,” he stopped a few inches away and smirked wider at him. Dean nodded and looked back to the guitar, starting the song all over again from th-. “After you tell me your name,” he was going to shoot him. He was going to go get his gun and shoot him.</p><p>“I’m so not opposed to hitting you with my guitar right now,” he looked up at the boy, seeing the amused look spreading over his face. “Okay... how ‘bout this. I’ll tell you my name,” he started slowly, staring at him with his own little smirk. “If you can play one instrument in this entire room,”<br/>--------------------<br/>All Derek/Paige scenes, but with Dean in Paiges' place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyEffect](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyEffect/gifts).



> I was asked to write out all Derek/Paige scenes, but she was swapped with Dean Winchester. I've wanted to do it for a while, but never really got around to it :) I hope you enjoy this.
> 
> Also, yeah, the first chapter is a slightly edited version of the first chapter in 'Not In Kansas Anymore, Dean'.

      Every note, he was hitting nearly every note with ‘almost’ perfection. He was doing pretty damn well in his opinion. He hadn’t played the guitar since he was being housed by Sunny. Dean guessed it was like riding a bike, all muscle memory, you never really forget.

      He was nearly halfway through the song when he was interrupted by loud smacking sounds, like rubber hitting marble and he stopped playing to the ticking of the timer, falling completely out of sync with it. He gritted his teeth for a few seconds  and glared at the empty guitar stand ahead of him, before starting up again, having to replay from the start while making sure to stay in time.

      He was only a few seconds in when he heard the smacking sound again. He huffed irritatedly through his nose and carefully grabbed the acoustic from his thigh, placing it neatly on its stand. He stood from his seat and made his way across the room towards the music rooms’ entrance doors, his posture irritated and tense. He strode around the corner and saw a group of boys, the basketball team. The noise he’d heard was the basketball hitting the ground.

      He gave another huff before he walked up to the group.

      “Yo guys, you mind?” he spoke up, raising both brows at them when they all turned to him. A few just sighed, the rest made no sound and then there was one, the boy holding the ball, just seemed completely amused and smirked at him, his lip curling further on one side. He knew this guy, he was the grade-A hotty of the damn school. And he’d agree with what everyone said.

      “Tryin’ to practice,” he added, nodding his head back towards the music room with an unimpressed look. A handful of the guys just laughed and shifted around the hall.

      “... How’d you know we’re not trying to practice here too?” his voice was smooth and soft, but it had a slightly arrogant edge to it. He already felt a pang of hate for this guy. He was cocky and irritated him a little. Thinking that he was one of the hottest guys in school didn’t change his mind on deeming this guy as a douchebag. He was both.

      “Pretty sure basketball practice takes place in the gym, not a hallway,” he said the sentence with a sigh, making it sound breathy. His arms crossed over his chest as he watched the guy, his eyes focused solely on him.

      “Well I’m pretty sure Basketball practice takes place wherever you have a basketball,” cocky was an understatement. This guy was smug, arrogant and overconfident. Most of the kids’ cronies laughed, finding the situation funny. Dean obviously didn’t. He instantly snapped his attention back to the guy as he came at him with the ball bouncing around from his hands to the floor. It was like he wanted to play with him or mess with him. He just sighed and leaned onto one of his legs.

      “See?” he whispered, standing straight again and too close to Dean. He was in his space.

      “Jackass,” he muttered and the young hunter rolled his eyes and turned away, about to walk away when the other boy stopped him.

      “Whoa, hold on, hold on,” he sighed again, not turning to meet the boy until he heard him speak. “If you get the ball from me... maybe I’ll stop,” if he were a girl, people would probably see this as flirting, but since it was Dean, he thought the guy was messing with him, playing him.

      “C’mon,” he smirked and started dribbling the ball, bouncing it up and down. “It’ll be easy,” his voice was softer, a little challenging tone edging his words. The ball started bouncing a little faster. He’d be able to get the ball from him. He was raised to catch and kill by his father, who was feared my most of the supernatural world. He could get a ball from this human loser easily.

      He reached for it as a test, not moving from his spot. The kid pulled it out of reach really fast, still smirking while holding the ball out of his arm length. The group laughed, but he didn’t really care. The kid inched the ball closer to him, still holding it and he gestured to it, like he was playing with him. He dropped it and started dribbling it again as Dean got back into position, ready to try again. He was starting to like that cocky smirk, it was sort of reminding him of his.

      He jerked for it again, the guy pulling it out of reach another time and stepping closer again with the ball in hand. Was it possible to hate and like someone at the same time? Because he hated him for being a cocky and arrogant douchebag, but he sort of liked that damn smirk of his and the way he played against hunter. It made him feel highped and up for more.

      “Again,” Dean smirked back and got back into position just as the other guy did the same.

      “Three outta five?” he asked as if to confirm.

      “Three outta five,” he replied softly, watching the boy as the ball started dribbling again. He had a system. A tell to which way he’d go and where the ball would go. He was ready.

      The ball dribbled faster, like the first time and he started to show off, widening his stance and bouncing it between his legs almost impossibly fast. Even the way he had complete control over the ball, and it was seriously hot.

      The boy shot to his side. Dean was watching intently as he started bouncing the ball around him, making him turn every way to keep his eyes focused on him and the ball. He shot his hand out, ready for when the guy grabbed it and turned out of Dean’s reach from the front. He shot around behind him and tapped the ball from his hands. It hit the wall and bounced back towards Dean, where he grabbed it and started dribbling it infront of the stunned group, a few of them oohhhh’ing, even the kid had his mouth slightly agape. None of his training went to waste, even if it was a simple basketball challenge.

      “You’re right, it _was_ easy,” he smirked, making sure to add a lot of emphasis on ‘was’ before he bounced the ball on the floor and made it head towards the kid. He turned around and made his way back to the music room, a wide smirk grew on his lips as he heard the team chat and get further away.

      “ _C’mon lover boy!_ ” he heard before they left the hallway, along with him as he walked through the doors to his practice room.

      Once he was back in the music room he headed straight towards his guitar and grabbed it, sitting down and placing it over his thigh before starting to practice again. He’d admit that he actually had fun back there, playing against the other kid. Maybe he should’ve taken up basketball instead of music. He’d be able to play the guitar back at the motel when his dad was out. He was only a few chords in when his hunter senses picked up, telling him he was being watched. Dean instantly stopped and turned towards the door, seeing the guy from the hallway. He looked a little surprised that he stopped and looked.

      “... Sorry ‘bout that, about the noise and-,” he said softly.

      “-Whatever,” he sighed, cutting the guy off. He gave him an unimpressed look, the expression written plainly on his face before he shook his head and turned back to his guitar, about to start again. He wouldn’t say that he wasn’t grateful about the apology, he was. But then... a few chords in...

      “What’s your name?” he stopped and sensed him walk into the room, getting closer to Dean.

      “Dude, tryin’ to practice. Can’t you see the guitar?” he pointed out, gesturing to it. He noticed the smirk on the other guys’ face, like he knew what he was doing to him.

      “Okay,” he was still getting closer, and Dean could feel his nerves warming and spiking with mild excitement. “I’ll just, leave you alone then,” he stopped a few inches away and smirked wider at him. Dean nodded and looked back to the guitar, starting the song all over again from th-. “After you tell me your name,” he was going to shoot him. He was going to go get his gun and shoot him.

      “I’m so not opposed to hitting you with my guitar right now,” he looked up at the boy, seeing the amused look spreading over his face. It was like he thought he wouldn’t, but loved how Dean just took to him being there... Calm down, he needed to calm down. He needed to stay as calm as possible.

      He slowly started to nod to himself, cooling himself down easily. He released a huff and refocused on him again, seeing that damn smirk still on his face. He suddenly had an idea. The guy was the pro basketball player for the school. He wouldn’t have had time to learn an instrument... hopefully.

      “Okay... how ‘bout this. I’ll tell you my name,” he started slowly, staring at him with his own little smirk. “If you can play one instrument in this entire room,” he challenged, gesturing to his room of practise.

      “One?” he asked, raising his hand with the index finger pointing up.

      “Just one,” he confirmed, nodding his head with his smirk widening across his lips. He was actually having some fun again, feeling like he did earlier, when he played against this guy.

      “Any of them?” he splayed his arm out to gesture to all of the instruments on the shelves. Dean just smiled and turned back to his guitar when the boy put his ball on one of the seats and went off to the other end of the room. He started playing the chords again, practicing the song he’d been playing through lunch. He had free period next so he could still play after the cocky basterd went to class. Dean didn’t like that he missed a chord there, his mind flitting off to the guy in the room.

      He stopped playing and leaned back in his seat to looked up to the boy when he stepped over and stood a few feet away, his hands behind his back with a solid smirk still on his face. He raised his brows at the boy expectantly and his mouth dropped a little when he pulled the instrument from behind his back, the light ting echoing through the room when he tapped the short, metal stick to the triangle.

      Dean looked away when couldn’t hold the incredulous smile and chuckle from leaving him. The smug basterd. Deans’ smile widened and he quickly turned back and saw wide smirk, the brows rais expectantly, waiting for him to give his name. He shook his head and leaned forward in his chair again.

      “Dean... my name’s Dean,” he put his fingers on the strings and looked away from the boy, the smile still on his lips. “ _Jackass_...” he muttered quietly. When he’d said it earlier, it was an insult, this time, it was more of an uninsulting name. It was derogatory. There was a beat of silence, only a quick beat.

      “My name’s De-,”

      “I know who you are,” he looked up at him, _knowing_ clearly shown on his face. Derek Hale, he knew him. He had the biggest fanbase not just because he the pro basketballer of the school, but also because he was the hottest guy and a sort of badboy. Dean liked him, he really did. He was definite spankbank materiel... not that he’d used him, no... Maybe once... twice... maybe.

      He watched as the boy turned and left, picking up his ball on the way while giving him lingering stares and smirks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically an edited copy of the first chapter to 'Not In Kansas Anymore, Dean'. I'm sorry I basically re-used the same thing, but it was there and I was reluctant to re-write the same scene twice. 
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this one. So much kisses and making out and touching... wwwwwwwww I liked this one!!!!

      Dean couldn’t help the soft, warm and breathy sigh that left him with every kiss Derek gently pressed against him, his lips hot and moist mouth touching his tenderly and fondly. He was being delicate with him, so timid, as if he’d break with one wrong move. They’d only been there a few minutes and every little touch was so subtle and gentle. He wanted more than that. He wanted to be manhandled by Derek, wanted to be held up against a wall or something and have his breath kissed out of him. He wanted to tell him all of this, so he broke their lips, pulling away with a little breath.

      “...What?” Derek asked softly, pulling them close again, to the point their foreheads were against each other, lips only an inch or two away.

      “I’m not a delicate flower, Derek,” he breathes out, looking straight into grey-ish green eyes. Dean could feel the warm arms wrapped around his shoulders, one hand smoothly running up and down the top half of his spine.

      “I know you’re not,” he leaned in to kiss him again, pressing their lips together and being soft when he bit tenderly at him. He was still being so damn gentle with him...

      “So, why’re you treating me like some china-doll?” he asked after breaking another kiss, getting a light frown at his words. “I’m not gonna break or hate you if you get a little rough with me,” the frown just deepened, but it was more contemplative now, there was some concern there too.

      “I don’t want to hurt you,”

      “What if I want you to?” he quickly replied, right after a beat and he ignored the sudden shocked look he got, the other boys’ eyes were wider and his mouth was slightly agape. “What if... what if I want you to shove me up against a wall and scrape me up a bit? Maybe leave red marks where your fingers dug in or dragged? Or teeth marks where you bit down on me, or even a deep hickey?” he didn’t sound frantic or worried or whatever, but his voice pitch did go up a little.

      “...You want me to leave marks on you?” _he_ actually sounded off. He was focused, a little breathless.

      “I want you to leave _your marks_ on me,” Dean corrected, his hand reaching up to Dereks’ face and he cupped his cheek. He could still see the worry there, his unsure eyes gazing at him. “Please, Derek. I don’t want you to hold back on me,”

      “... okay,” he swallowed thickly and drew in, like he was going to be soft with him again, but... he didn’t kiss him. He’d leaned in and down to grab him and lift him up. Dean instantly wrapped his legs around the guys’ waist, his ankles crossing over Dereks’ ass area.

      He was walking a few paces and he felt his back touch one of the walls, his body being pressed against it, and that was when he was being kissed, rough and hard and he smiled against him. He felt the tongue poke out and run along his lips’ seam, hot and wet before it slipped its way in and ran up against his own tongue. He hadn’t felt the moan leave his lips, but he definitely heard it, Derek too, by the sounds of the deep chuckle.

      He twisted his heated and moist muscle against his, tilting his head a little to get a deeper angle and Dean suddenly gasped at the rough grip the other had on his waist, his fingers digging in. His other hand was on the underside of his thigh, so close to his ass. His crotch... he could feel Dereks’ semi-hardon just under him, the head of it pressing up against him. And he was sure that the other boy could feel his pressed to his stomach through his jeans.

      The hunter could barely handle his senses as he kissed him roughly, over and over, sucking and biting at his lips. He was more than sure that sting he felt a second ago was his lip splitting a little. He really didn’t care, it was so hot and so damn good... until he suddenly stopped and looked away, like he heard something.

      “... Wh-what? What’s wrong?” he asked quietly and very breathlessly. Dean held on, his arms steadily wrapped around Dereks’ shoulders as he was carefully put down. There wasn’t any height difference, so he didn’t understand why he was handling him carefully again. “You hear something?”

      “Something... something happened here,” the other guy said vaguely as he started glancing around a little. Dean didn’t get it, he didn’t understand what he was talking about.

      “What’d you mean?”

      “... I caught a scent,” a... a scent? What’d he mean ‘ _caught a scent_ ’? He smelt something? “It’s blood,” how? How did he know all this? How could he have smelt that of all things?!

      Dean was about to unload a bombshell of questions on him when he snapped his head around in a certain direction, like he caught something else, and he stopped too, his own senses picking up on something. He couldn’t hear, see or smell anything, but hunting heightened his _feel_ sense, and he could feel something getting closer. He could feel all of it now, since his head hadn’t been distracted by that insanely great mouth.

      “Now I definitely heard something,” he muttered quietly. Dean was looking the same way, pretty sure that whatever he felt and whatever Derek heard was one in the same. He gently tugged on the boys’ hand, edging back towards the other open door of the factory building.

      “Let’s get outta here,” he urged lightly and tugged a little harder, getting the guys attention and getting a nod in agreement.

      “Yeah,” they both turned towards the door and started speed walking. There were still questions thundering inside of his head, urging him to ask them and get answers. He really wanted to, but getting the hell out of dodge was really the only thing that mattered at the moment. Maybe he could ask while they were at school or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think? Enjoy? Let me know!! xD


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't know which one I liked writing more. These three chapters' really had my attention and complete focus. I adore them XD

      Deans’ concentration was on his playing, on his practicing. He loved playing his guitar, he loved it. But since Derek was there, lurking in the entrance to the room, his lips started to gradually curve upwards, curling and curling until he had a beaming smile on his face, his concentration was faltering. And he knew that Derek knew. His gaze was focused on him, staring, almost burning a loving hole into his being.

      “What’re you staring at?” he didn’t look away from the paper on the easel for a few seconds, deciding to actually look when he didn’t answer first off. He turned to him, seeing the crooked and soft smirk on his lips while he leaned against the door-frame.

      “... Not staring,” his smirk only softened further. “I’m listening,” listening? He was listening to him play his music? On his guitar? Was it worth that? Dean was the one staring now, gazing over and up at him with his own gentle smile and tender green eyes. He couldn’t not gaze at him, he was a thing of beauty and hard to decipher and it brought excite to his days now. The hunter had never actually felt the way he did around this boy. Love was something new to-... _love_...? “Am I distracting you?”

      Dean snapped from his thoughts, his smile and eyes clearly faltering for a split-second before he composed himself and looked back to his sheet of paper. “No,” he said firmly, or tried to anyway. “You’re totally not,” he added, patting himself on the back for actually sounding firm that time.

      “You sure about that?” Dean heard a little shuffling and kicked himself when he heard Dereks’ footsteps, getting closer and closer. He started playing again, starting the song over while the other boy did his own thing for a few seconds. He’d dropped his bag somewhere as was getting closer again, slowly walking to his side and then behind him.

      Dean almost faltered in playing, feeling the feather-light touch draw up his bicep, taking his t-shirt sleeve with him for a second before breaking the faint, ghost-like contact and letting it fall. Only a few mere seconds later, and he felt a hot puff or air blanket the side of his face, engulfing his ear entirely, and that time, he did, in fact, waver in his playing, missing a chord or two. The lip pressing against his ear made him stop playing completely, his hand on the neck of the guitar gripping it tight and making him unable to strum. The hot breath and moist lip pressing in and smoothly slipping up the shell of his ear. His heart was stuttering and his body was heating up, his nerves were twitching and not listening. And then Derek pulled away, still close, but his lips and hands weren’t touching him. That heat he’d felt was dwindling and he freaking distracted him from his practice...

      "Jackass,” he muttered, not heat in his words or tone at all. He turned to glance over his shoulder at the other boy, seeing the amused and teasing smirk directed at him.

      “You like this jackass,” he replied, because he knew Dean did. Dean knew he did. “In fact...” he trailed off, pausing to gracefully step around the chairs until he was sitting in the seat beside him, pulling it close so his knee was pressed against the side of his thigh. “You love me,” as he said it, his hand reached under the guitar and slid up and pressed the top of his thigh, his hand sliding until his fingers were holding the inside, so close to his groin. The heat of his hand and where his fingers were was seriously stimulating him. He actually felt his blood beating in certain areas of his body.

      “You love me,” he said again, his smirk dropping and it almost looked like he wanted him to confirm it, he looked like an actual kicked puppy. And it just looked like his eyes were growing by the second.

      Dean didn’t trust his voice, he didn’t, he seriously didn’t. The hand that moved up and was now right at the top of his thigh, finger knuckles almost touching his... you know, was making it difficult to think, let alone talk. So he nodded, subtly and focused his eyes on the boy as he snapped in and took his lips, like he couldn’t breathe without them. His other hand was at the back of his neck, his index finger and thumb shifting a little through the bottom of his hairline. Dean kissed back, as gentle as he could since this wasn’t just some normal thing. This wasn’t what they were doing in the factory building, this was a serious confessional kiss. A thing to be treasured. He never, in his short life, thought that he would ever have something like this. It was beautiful.

      “I love you,” Derek whispered against his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was great to write. I really can't choose between these three chapters, so I'm not going to. And just saying, this gives me ideas for a sequel... like, the fire happens, Derek and Laura leave, Derek comes back (season 1) and Dean is still there, teaching as a music instructor :) Let me know what you think, should I do that after I finish a few on-goings' I got?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, maybe 6 chapters, including the fire chapter where Derek leaves... maybe. I'll have to work it out.

      This was as risky as meeting at the factory, even more so since the school had staff. Meeting after dark wasn’t really a bother to him, he liked it, and it gave him a little rush. But this... this was different, he could feel the apprehension growing and the atmosphere was dark and sinister, almost threatening. He didn’t like it. He was actually stepping as a hunter right now, cautious and alert. Walking the bleak and dim hallways with his guard on full volume. He kept his eyes peeled and open for anything.

      “Derek?” he called for the third time in the few minutes he’d been there. His hunter shoes were slipped on when he didn’t answer the first time. He’d instantly thought that something was off.

      He’d hesitantly accepted it, when he figured out that Derek was a werewolf, with the help of his fathers’ journal. There was stuff there about the Alphas and the Hale family and Derek was a Hale. So, it didn’t take a genius to get it. But, whatever, he accepted Derek as one. And that was just it... the school was completely dead silent and his voice was echoing the hallways, wouldn’t Derek be able to hear him? He had to be there, he had a note from him and it was in his handwriting, so he should be there.

      Deans’ senses snapped him from his thoughts, his hearing having caught the squeaky sound of an un-oiled door either being opened or closed. He stopped walking, deciding to just stare down the hallway to see if he’d catch anything, movement sound, whatever.

      “Derek? Is that you?” he asked calmly, but deeply, his tone resonating off of the walls. He didn’t like this silence, the atmosphere just seemed to get darker and more threatening the more he stayed there and stared at the doors at the end of the hallway. His nerves were sparking and he quickly looked over his shoulder, only taking a few seconds to canvas and then turned back, deciding to take a step, and then another and another. He really didn’t like this. There was someone there, he knew it, and he was really hopeful that Derek was just messing with him, like a douchebag.

      He stopped a good few feet from the doors and turned around, looking over his shoulder again. He could feel his heart beating a mile a minute, trying to break through his ribs. Everything was feeling heavy, the hallway, his limbs. It felt like he was being weighed down and it was scaring him. He hadn’t been scared for some time, because either it wasn’t scary, or his dad was there... and he definitely wasn’t there. Dean swallowed thickly and frantically scanned behind him, hesitantly deeming it safe-ish before turning around and-

      Dean froze on the spot, his eyes wide, his body taut and rock heavy. He felt his blood run cold and his skin paled and his heartbeat sky-rocketed. The man in front of him... no, not a man... that was definitely not some guy. He had longer ears and fangs and claws and red eyes and- Dean couldn’t hold back the shaky breath that broke through his lightly closed lips. Fight or flight or freeze. He really wanted to do one of those three and flight was buzzing through his system and mind. So that was what he did. His instincts kicked in and he swiftly turned around, his boots boosting him ahead and he was running. He could hear the faint growl behind him and heard the footsteps giving chase. The hunter was scared, terrified, petrified, and that was fuelling his need to run faster and get away.

      But... obviously, it didn’t matter. A sixteen year old, human kid, against a huge, werewolf Alpha with a goal. He was easily tackled, Dean feeling his body painfully hit the floor with a nasty ‘thwack’. He was still going through the rush and it pushed him to ignore the ache, forcing him to try and get up on all fours and crawl away. He only managed a few feet though. Dean’s ankle was grabbed and he was dragged back along the floor, his shirt riding up a little and then... _pain_.

      Pain erupted and originated from his side and he let out a stomach churning, spine chilling scream that echoed the hallways. His waist felt cold, freezing and he felt liquid spreading over one area. He instinctively curled up, moving into the fettle position on his side. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t a baby, but the pain was what had his attention. Cold stinging, cold burn, he just felt cold where he was... scratched? Bitten?

      “Dean?” at his name being called, he looked over to the doors on the other end of the hall, seeing Derek standing there in utter shock, looking at him with wide eyes and an agape mouth. The big guy was still holding him, down, a huge, solid hand on his neck and shoulder, keeping him there. Had Derek seen him get attacked? Get scratched or... whatever just happened?

      Suddenly the hand was gone, and Derek was running at them, or at the attacker. He’d jumped at him, looking like he was about to swing for him, but the bigger guys hands grabbed him and threw him to the wall, the smaller hitting the ground with just as much force as when Dean was tackled. The huge guy reached down and held his head down, facing him, and the man pointed at him, like he was showing him something, and whatever he showed him, Derek saw. His eyes went wide again and he looked... _sympathetic? Guilty?_ Why?

      The man let go of Derek and stood, giving him a dark smirk before turning and walking away. As soon as he was let go, the other boy frantically launched for him, running and then skidding to a stop next to him, a hand on his shoulder and hip, gently pushing him until he was laying half on his back and half on his side. He didn’t want this, Dean didn’t want this. He was in pain and it wouldn’t go away. It felt like his body was burning, but it was freezing. What did the guy do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya'll enjoyed this one, what'd you think?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually cried while writing this one... is that sad?

      So much pain, he could feel it coursing through his veins and in his bones. It felt like he was dying... _dying_... is that what was happening? Was he dying? He felt weak, heavy, his limbs and muscles and his entire body. Was he dying...

      “Dean...” he heard him whisper the name, as soft as possible and as silky and as smoothly. His felt his fingers being intertwined with Dereks’, their palms held tight together. He was so warm. He’d only just realized that he had his head against the other boys’ chest and shoulder, so hot and comforting. He was leaning against, leaning into him. If he thought about this, and him, the pain was dulled, just a bit, but it was still... unbearable? No, he... Derek was... how was he doing that? The pain, it was... it was still there, but it was dulling... like it was being drawn.

      With a bit of effort, Dean _tried_ to lift his head, not from the boys’ chest, he just tried to tilt his head up, to look at him. He was in pain too, his face was scrunched and he was panting lightly, and then roughly. He was... was he drawing his pain? Was he trying to take it? Werewolves could do that?

      “Derek...” he muttered weakly, his tone a few pitches higher. It hurt to even speak.

      “S-sorry-,”

      “I knew,” he quietly cut him off, the pain slowly coming back while he spoke. Derek made a confused, but soft humming sound, like he questioned him through it and Dean let a soft smile grace his lips. “I knew after you said... that you caught a scent in that factory,” he winced a little, but kept his smile up. “I’ve seen a lot of things, things that couldn’t be explained,” he felt the werewolf rest his mouth and cheek against his forehead and hair. “I thought that all those things were bad, were dangerous, but... then there’s you,” he nuzzled up into him a little ignoring the pain and feeling him gently nuzzle back. “I know you can hear things, things that no one else can hear... I know,”

      “You still loved me...” he sounded surprised, but it was mildly dulled by this situation. Dean could feel himself getting weaker, his body, his life. And the blood... black blood on his mouth and inside tasted terrible. It didn’t make things better.

      “I still _love_ you,” he put heart-warming emphasis on the word, showing the present feeling he still had for him. And then it came crashing back on him. He was saying this, that he actually loved someone and he... he was going to die. His dad wouldn’t know, Sammy wouldn’t know, uncle Bobby wouldn’t know... Derek would... the first person he’d ever let in and loved was holding him and they were waiting, reluctantly waiting until Dean just...

      No, no, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t die, not yet. He was- he was too young... he wanted to at least have a life and... he _wanted this_ , he wanted Derek and... He loved him! He _loved_ him!

      “I love you,” he whimpered and turned his face into Dereks’ chest, starting to sob. He felt the others’ hand wrap around him, tensing and sounding like he was about to start crying too. But he just whimpered and sniffed a few times, like he was holding it all back.

      “I love you,” Derek muffled deeply into his hair. He couldn’t die, he didn’t want to, he wasn’t ready! He _wanted_ to live! He _needed_ to live!

      “I don’t want to die,” he whimpered weakly, his voice more than a few octaves higher. He held on tighter to the werewolf, allowing himself to cry.

      “ _Accept the bite,_ ” he glanced up to Derek, looking at him with confusion. It was like he just remembered something or realized something. He slowly turned to look down at him, eyeing him for a few seconds. “ _Accept it,_ ” he repeated dazily and Dean just furrowed his brow, seriously not understanding what he meant.

      “What?” he winced a little.

      “Accept the bite, let it in...”... What did he mean? What was he supposed to ‘ _let in_ ’?

      “I don’t get it,” he really didn’t... Accepting something? Letting it in?  

      Derek sat there, staring at him thoughtfully, he was thinking deeply on something, probably trying to find a way to explain it to him or a way he could make it easier on him. Dean tried thinking on it, but he got nowhere, letting something in and accepting felt like a way of giving up, like _accepting it,_ was a really misleading, two word sentence.

      “L-... Let your guard go, let it down. Let yourself be vulnerable,” he assumed that Derek saw the reluctance and defiance instantly cross his face, because he let a smile split his lips for a split-second. “Don’t worry, I’m here,” he muttered softly and held him tighter, as if to comfort him, protect him.

      Dean tilted his head down and leaned his face back into Dereks’ chest. He didn’t like it, didn’t like what he just told him to do. His guard was always up, he never let it down. Was this what he meant by accepting it? Was his hunter instinct the problem right now? Was it stopping him from living? ... the bite... the bite! His dads’ journal! He read about the bite, the Alphas. The guy that bit him, he was an Alpha! Was this a ‘ _change or die_ ’ sort of thing? ‘ _Accept it,_ ’ that was what Derek meant! Accept the bite! Wait-... that meant that... either he had to accept it or he would die, but then he would be something his dad normally hunted...

      ... as long as he lived, he... he wanted to live, he was going to.

      Dean hesitantly took a deep breath, inhaling Dereks’ shirt smell and closed his eyes. He needed to try. He relaxed, leaning into the other boy as he tried to let his hunters’ side go. It was hard, harder than he thought, but he wasn’t surprised. As soon as he could hold a gun, he was trained to hunt. So many years of being a hunter...

      It wasn’t... it wasn’t working... He unintentionally let out a sob. The pain wasn’t exactly helping at all.

      “Dean, look at me,” he scrunched his eyes for a few seconds, but he did listen. He slowly looked up, tears in his eyes and then... he was being kissed, gentle and innocently. It was just lips on lips, a soft, chaste kiss. He tilted his head a few inches, not deepening it, but because it was nice, loving, tender and warm. It calmed him, eased him, reduced his hard exterior, or what was left of it, and he was sure that Derek was being a sneak and taking some of his pain, he could feel it leaving him, little by painful little. It felt like it was making it easier on him.

      His body was hot, something inside of him feeling solid and jagged as it ran through his muscles, his veins and bones. He didn’t know what it was, or what it was doing, but he was sure that the wolf had something to do with it.

      Derek drew his lips back, leaving their foreheads pressed gently and he opened his eyes, gazing at the werewolf in front of him, holding him. His eyes were suddenly wide and Dean pulled back just a little, feeling a mild fear shake his body.

      “What?” he whined a little, his voice feeling rough and thick. His worry just seemed to grow.

      “... Your eyes,” his eyes? “You turned,” he suddenly had a huge, beaming smile on his lips, smiling widely at him and he was enveloped in his arms again, being hugged tightly and warmly in his arms. Dean took that as good news and hugged him back, awkwardly reaching his arms around the boys’ waist and shoulders and holding him back. He’d then noticed the pain, or lack of, it was weakening, leaving him. He was feeling a bit more vibrant than before. His strength was coming back!

      He was going to live!! ....right? He felt like he was going to-

      Dean was being kissed again, hard, but comforting and needing. He kissed back, a chuckle in his throat from being held and kissed and the need for it. He tilted his head, getting a better angle and gently opened his mouth for Derek, feeling him do the same and they pressed close, his tongue slipping out to meet the wolfs’ in the middle. He wasn’t going to let this carry on into his mouth though, not with the blood and black icky stuff.

      “God, I love you,” he muttered and wrapped his arms around Derek shoulders, the wolfs’ wrapping around his waist. They just hugged now, both holding onto each other for dear life.

      “I love you too,” he nuzzled into his neck and kissed gently. “Don’t ever leave me,”

      “... I won’t,” he smiled against him and nuzzled Derek as well, his nose suddenly getting engulfed his drawing scent. It was so strong and intoxicating, it excited him a little. It was stimulating and he... really didn’t know what was going on, he felt so drawn to him and he just... how the hell did Derek managed to control the scent thing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It made me cry!! Please don't tell me I'm the only one that did!!! This really hurt me to write!! I can't stand hurt Dean or hurt Derek :(


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you type complaints of it's length or lack of Derek. It's meant to be like this. It sort of feeds into the sequel I'll be starting soon...

      The worst part about this story? It was over two years ago, nearly three and Dean was... well, he was alone, depressed, upset, angry, and yet... he still loved that damn werewolf. He'd promised never to leave Derek, but Derek left him... He had his reasons, he had excuses, but he left, without saying a word to him.

      There was a fire, and it killed almost everyone Derek held dear to him, nearly dead on two years ago now, and the only ones that made it were Derek, his sister and uncle. He and his sister hadn't actually been at the house at the time because he was with him, but the werewolf was left with only those two, though they sort of abandoned the uncle too. He was at the terminally ill or catatonic wing of the Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. Dean had visited a few times, being hesitant to really do anything but sit in a chair on the other end of the room, watching him, listening to his heartbeat. He'd tried to tune his senses way up, just to try and catch anything that said that the other wolf was healing. But all he got, was his too calm and weak beating of his heart, it was rhythmical and even.

      Dean was actually at the hospital now, sitting there like he normally did with his focus completely set on the older wolf. He was still lifeless, still staring and sort of aware, but unable to do anything. Peter Hale, he couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even let him know that he was still in there somewhere. He didn't know a lot about this guy, only that he was Dereks' uncle and his mothers' brother. He was sassy, sarcastic, strong... he'd lost everything, just as much as Derek and his sister... probably more so. Derek still had his sister.

      The wolf was actually aware right? Those books and what he learned from a few of the nurses weren't just fake ideas of what they thought was going on with a comatose patient? He could really hear him? It was worth a shot, right? He didn't really have anything to lose from talking to a guy in this situation...

      "... I'm... I'm not-," he started very poorly, stopping for a second to rub a hand over his face with a deep, frustrated sigh. "... Listen, I'm not gonna pretend I know what you're going through," he looked back at him, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I haven't lost almost my entire family... but... I know what loss feels like," he wasn't going to say it, he didn't want to bore him or be all wussy and throw his feelings on the table like some little girl that just got dumped. He wasn't going to tell him what happened to his mother, not yet. "I'm not gonna compare my loss with yours either... All I can really say is... it'll never go away, but it does get easier to bare,"

      He rubbed a hand over his head again, resting his face in his palms while taking a deep breath.

      "I'll see you later this week," he muttered distantly and stood up, stepping over to the other werewolf. Dean reached out a hand and rested it on the older mans shoulder, patting for a second before pulling back and turning away, towards the door. He was walking, almost through the threshold when he felt a pang of something.

      Dean furrowed his brow and looked over his shoulder, staring over at Peter in wonder. The heart skip of the wolfs' practically confirmed that he could hear him.

      "... see ya, man," he smiled a little and walked out of the room, giving Mrs McCall a wider smile as he walked passed. Oh! He remembered something. "Hey-uh... am I baby-sitting for you again tomorrow night?" he'd been baby-sitting for her for sometime, a few others too, including the sheriff, though Scott and the Stilinski kid were usually always together, so he'd been baby-sitting both in one night.

      "If it's not too much trouble, Dean," she gave him an apologetic look, but Dean just chuckled a little.

      "It's no trouble," it wasn't. He liked those two, they were fun and a little insane. Plus, Sammy got along with them when he dragged him along while Dad was busy.

      Oh yeah, he forgot to mention. Last year, his father killed that demon. Their job was sort of done and they decided to move and stay in Beacon Hills, because Sam and Dean liked it so much, Dean obviously had another reason for liking it and loathing it at the same time, but it was a nice place to hang and grow up. He could imagine himself living here for a long time, obviously, he'd first imagined it with... Derek...

\----------

      Dean leaned back on his bed, dropping until he was lying there with his arms spread wide and his legs hanging over the edge. He missed him, he seriously did, but he knew he shouldn't dwell. Hell knows, he probably wouldn't see that... jackass... again.

      God dammit, he needed to stop thinking and get over it.

      If he didn't see him again, then he'd be heartbroken, more so than he was now, but if he did? Oh there would be hell to pay. Derek would get the biggest of black-eyes and a broken nose and a few missing teeth and then he'd kiss the fuck outta him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya'll enjoyed, let me know what you think... other than the length and lack of Derek...
> 
> And yeah, there will be a "sequel", you'll just have to wait a while until I finish a few other things.


End file.
